


nobody but you

by softintelligence



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mizael asked him why he didn’t move in with them, Durbe asked him, “If I’m busy helping out the Kamishiros, who’s going to keep <i>you</i> from getting lonely?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	nobody but you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunwukong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwukong/gifts).



At eleven p.m., Durbe texted him to ask, “Hey, Mizael. Do you want to hang out?” as though they didn’t already hang out on a semi-daily basis, Mizael waiting for Durbe to finish his minimum wage job at the library shelving books and directing patrons to the correct floor. On the weekends, Durbe would wait outside the bar Mizael tended, near the street light, reading this or that novel about this or that myth or some book about the beginning of the universe. 

Looking at Durbe’s text--it made Mizael’s skin itch, the grip on his phone tightening. He felt his fingers tracing over a rejection, but of course, he found himself texting him back, “Sure. I’ll come over.” He rose from his bed and yanked his pajamas off to replace them with a winter outfit composed of the gifts he’d received for the winter holidays: a thick seafoam blue scarf Rio had knitted him, a large brown peacoat from Alit, white pants from Kaito, brown boots from Gilag, and a pale yellow shirt from Yuma. 

As he pulled his arms through the coat, Durbe texted him again. “No,” the text read, “don’t come over. Can you meet me by the bridge, next to the water?”

“Ok,” Mizael replied, grabbing his keys. 

They hadn’t agreed to live together, after everything was said and done. Durbe didn’t mention it, like Mizael thought he would. Actually, Mizael had thought--maybe Durbe would have lived with Nasch and Merag. But Nasch said, “I’m Nasch, but--I’m also Kamishiro Ryouga. And I’m also Shark. So,” and then he’d gone to live with Merag in their too-big mansion. A few weeks later, and Gilag and Alit were crashing their mansion, moving in to keep Merag and Nasch from being too “lonely.” Durbe lived alone, too, near the library he worked at. When Mizael asked him why he didn’t move in with them, Durbe asked him, “If I’m busy helping out the Kamishiros, who’s going to keep _you_ from getting lonely?” 

Lonely.

Mizael looked back into his small flat. Kaito dropped by, sometimes. They didn’t really keep in contact like Mizael and Durbe did. Mostly, Kaito had news of this or that artifact related to his ruins. Sometimes he sent Mizael books. Other times, Kaito asked Mizael if he wanted to meet for coffee, and Mizael agreed with short, terse text messages. Kaito didn’t smile, exactly, when they met, but then--he didn’t frown, or glare, either, and he remembered Mizael’s favorite drink even as he was telling Mizael that he was becoming more and more pigeon-like every time they met. 

“Haruto’s getting lonely,” Kaito would say, which Mizael knew was a bold-faced lie, because he was sure III and Yuma kept Haruto enough company, “maybe you could become his babysitter and live at Heartland Tower,” and smirk. 

Mizael knew what he was thinking. But the quiet of the flat, the isolated sound of the breeze floating through the window, the gentle sound of the latch locking his door behind him, was comforting enough, when Mizael could barely stand the silence of his own cowardice, staring back at him every morning in the mirror.

He didn’t need anyone else to see it too.

\---

Durbe was already at the bridge when Mizael arrived, his breath frosting out in front of him. His eyelashes felt frozen together. 

“Hey,” Mizael said, not bothering to take his hands out of his pockets. Durbe turned, his mouth open into a half-laugh, half-smile.

“I was worried you weren’t going to make it,” Durbe said. 

“Why wouldn’t I,” Mizael said, his skin itching, his head pounding a little. “You told me to come.”

“I asked you,” Durbe said. He turned back, peering over the railing toward the water, and then down at his watch. “It’s eleven forty-five.” He let out a deep breath. 

“Where’s Nasch?” Mizael asked, looking around. “Is he coming later?” 

Durbe glanced over his shoulder. “Mizael, don’t be silly,” he said. “He isn’t coming today. And it’s Shark now. I only asked you to meet me here.” He put his hands on the railing and leaned over.

Mizael reached out without thinking, yanking Durbe back. “Don’t do that,” he said. “You’ll fall.” He put his hands on the railing, too. It was ice cold, and he regretted not pulling gloves on. Hadn’t someone gifted him those, too, and he’d left them somewhere in his closet… 

“It’s fine!” Durbe laughed again, and Mizael looked away, feeling his heart struggle to keep up with the blood rushing to his face. 

Durbe suddenly fell silent. “You know,” he said, and looked down. “I’m sorry, Mizael. Back then, with the Barian World--” 

“--no, it’s fine,” Mizael said. “We did what we had to. For the sake of the Barian world.” He flexed his fingers over the railing. Out on the water, a boat’s lights glittered, and Mizael watched it, wondered if he would have been better off living in some sort of boat, alone in the ocean. Away from people. 

But then … Mizael looked over at Durbe. Durbe looked back at him. He was still smiling, but this time, it was sad. 

“Hey, Mizael.”

“What,” Mizael said.

“Let me finish,” Durbe said. “And then you can say whatever you want.”

Mizael searched Durbe’s face and nodded, once, before looking away. 

“I wasn’t as fair to you as I should have been,” Durbe said. “I should have said something earlier. About how important you are to me.” Durbe took a deep breath and chuckled. “Nasch--Shark--is--was--my best friend,” he continued, and Mizael’s stomach dropped a little. “But Mizael, you’re the one who stuck with me.”

Mizael clenched the railing. Would it be inappropriate to jump over the railing himself, at this very moment, and swim away to the depths of the ocean where he would live, alone, forever? “Durbe,” he said. “I know.”

“Wait,” Durbe said. “I’m not done.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Mizael said, letting go of the railing against his better judgment to turn his back to Durbe. There was still time to jump, if he so wished. His coat would drag him down, but at least he would be warm in the water. But then, of course, Durbe would jump in after him, wouldn’t he. Like the knight he was.

“Mizael,” Durbe said, and he felt the gentle pressure of Durbe’s touch against his arm. “Don’t. I haven’t even reached the conclusion yet.”

Mizael stopped; his face was hot and so was his back, because, if Mizael guessed right, Durbe was pressing his forehead into Mizael’s back. His hand had a tight hold on Mizael’s arm. “Fine,” he said. “Keep going.” 

Wasn’t it always like this? Mizael couldn’t say no to Durbe. To Kaito, his rival, his equal, he could say no. It was simple. But for Durbe, Mizael waited, as though Durbe were some distant star, but instead of toward him, Durbe traveled away, and even though Mizael was fast on his trail Durbe of course was the first to disappear.

“Mizael.” 

Durbe pulled away and walked around, until he was facing Mizael, the light of the city reflected off his face. It was so unfair, Mizael thought, how dare he radiate brighter than all the stars combined until Mizael could see no one else? Durbe looked at his watch, and then, suddenly, leaned forward and pressed his lips to Mizael’s just as suddenly as a burst of fireworks colored the sky. 

“Happy New Year’s,” Durbe said, pulling away. “I wanted to tie up all my loose ends before new years, but I guess I didn’t do it in time …” He sighed and laughed, a little self-depreciating, but still charming, and Mizael hated him. “Mizael.” Durbe took Mizael’s hands in his. The palms of his hands were warm. “I love you.”

Mizael’s throat was dry. He gripped Durbe’s hands in his. “How long,” he said.

“I don’t know,” Durbe said. “I guess … a while now.” He smiled. “There’s nothing about you I don’t love.”

“... me too,” Mizael said. “About you.”

Durbe smiled. “I know.”

Mizael scowled, but he grabbed Durbe’s hand and started pulling him in the direction of his flat. “Come on,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

“What,” Durbe said. “Your bedroom?”

Mizael felt his ears turn pink. “Yes,” he said.

“I guess I kept you waiting long enough,” Durbe laughed.

\---

The next morning, Mizael’s phone vibrated off the bed stand with the amount of messages sent to him. The first message was from Alit.

“Took you long enough!” along with a picture of him and Gilag, both giving a thumbs up. “We’re coming over with cake later today!”

“You told them?” Mizael grumbled. His hair was a mess, but when he looked over at Durbe, so was Durbe’s … everything. Mizael felt his face turn red and he pulled the sheets over Durbe. 

“I told them I was going to tell you something,” Durbe said. “I guess they just figured it out on their own.”

The second was from Yuma. “We’re coming over too!!!” 

The color drained from Mizael’s face. “Durbe,” he said. “Yuma’s coming over. Put your clothes on.”

“Yes, yes,” Durbe said, laughing. 

Mizael sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to pull the clothes onto the bed. “You didn’t have to worry about me,” he said, as he pulled on his boxers. “Being lonely. Everyone will come bother me no matter what, as you can see.”

“Maybe I was the lonely one,” Durbe said, and Mizael nearly jumped when he felt Durbe’s wet mouth on his back. “Come on, they probably won’t be here for another hour or two. You know Yuma.”

“Durbe,” Mizael said, weakly, but, if they were both being honest, then, well--Mizael wanted this, too. He turned to wrap his arms around Durbe and kissed him again, his hair falling between them. “I’ll be in your care from now on.”

**Author's Note:**

> shows up five months late to the birthday party


End file.
